


Cough

by draculard



Series: Pellaeon/Thrawn 30 Day Ficlets [1]
Category: Star Wars Legends: Thrawn Trilogy - Timothy Zahn
Genre: Alcohol, Common Cold, Humor, M/M, Medicine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:34:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26224261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/draculard/pseuds/draculard
Summary: Thrawn keeps coming down with the Chiss version of the common cold. Each bout is brief and painless, cured almost instantly by a rare medicine Thrawn keeps in his desk drawer. So when Pellaeon starts exhibiting symptoms, he knows exactly what to do.Only, for some reason, Thrawn doesn't want to share.
Relationships: Gilad Pellaeon/Thrawn | Mitth’raw’nuruodo
Series: Pellaeon/Thrawn 30 Day Ficlets [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1904581
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	Cough

Pellaeon cleared his throat once, then again, more stridently. He felt like he had glass stuck in his esophagus; when he had to clear his throat a third time, he turned pointedly away from Thrawn, unwilling to let the Grand Admiral see how red-faced he was from strain.

He hacked up his lungs for a good few seconds — but in a _dignified_ way, he hoped — and then allowed himself some time to breathe. Dimly, he was aware of Thrawn watching him, either with concern or with amusement. Pellaeon wasn’t sure he wanted to know which.

“Sir,” he said raspily, adjusting his collar when he felt ready to speak, “I hate to bother you—”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Thrawn raise an eyebrow.

“—but you wouldn’t mind if I had some of your cough syrup, would you?” Pellaeon finished. His voice sounded raw and his throat felt uncomfortably tender; he desperately hoped Thrawn would say yes. But for a long moment, Thrawn’s expression didn’t change. Pellaeon couldn’t fathom why; he knew Thrawn kept a bottle of barely-legal stim-infused cough syrup in his desk drawer. He’d seen Thrawn swig from it more than once to keep himself going on a bad day. If he was willing to drink from it in front of his captain, why shouldn’t he be willing to share?

Thrawn stared at him, his gaze strangely heavy. Pellaeon gave him a quizzical stare back and tried not to cough. His cheeks puffed out in a harsh breath of air when he failed.

“Fine,” Thrawn said, breaking eye contact abruptly. His voice was unusually clipped, like Pellaeon had committed some grievous military error by asking. He leaned down, the bottom drawer of his desk rattling as he pulled it out. He set the bottle of cough syrup on his desk and pulled his hand back, meeting Pellaeon’s gaze with something like a challenge in his eyes.

“Thank you, sir,” said Pellaeon, putting Thrawn’s odd behavior out of mind. He cleared his throat a fourth time — painfully — as he unscrewed the cap. Bracing himself for a nasty flavor, he tilted his head back and took the cough syrup like a shot.

 _Exactly_ like a shot.

“Is this _alcohol_?” Pellaeon wheezed, his eyes stinging. He tried not to gag on the taste.

“Yes,” said Thrawn simply. He studied Pellaeon’s face for a moment. “I hoped you wouldn’t notice.”

“ _Wouldn’t notice?_ ” Pellaeon repeated. He wiped his mouth, held the bottle up to eye-level, and squinted through the dark transparisteel to the liquid inside. “Sir, this is _clearly_ Actylonian rye liquor. I recognized the taste immediately. How would I _not notice?_ ”

Thrawn scowled a little and gestured for Pellaeon to give the bottle back. When it was in his hand, he took a swig from it rather than put the cap back on.

“So I take it you _haven’t_ been coming down with little Chiss colds lately?” said Pellaeon dryly. “Why bother with the camouflage, sir? You drink anything you like in front of the whole crew all the time anyway.”

Thrawn gave him a sour look at that … and passed the ‘cough syrup’ back to Pellaeon. Surprised, Pellaeon hesitated a moment before taking the bottle. He threw back another shot.

“The camouflage isn’t, strictly speaking, for the crew,” Thrawn told him. “You may recall that each time I come down with a cold, I happen to be in a holo-meeting with the Moffs.”

Ah. Now that he mentioned it, Pellaeon did remember something like that. “Convenient that nobody but you knows the symptoms or average length of a Chiss cold,” he remarked.

“Chiss don’t get colds,” Thrawn said. “And yes, it is convenient.”

Pellaeon smiled a little at that — and to his surprise, Thrawn smiled back. A fleeting smile, but a genuine one, and warmer than any of his smiles Pellaeon had seen so far. 

Then Thrawn stuck his hand out palm-up and said, “Now give me back my liquor.”

**Author's Note:**

> I found a 30-day prompt I like, so I'm gonna try and do one a day throughout September. :D


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